Gefährliche Gedanken
by GodBlessCoraCrawley
Summary: *Dangerous Thoughts 【Corah】 Have you ever wondered why O'Brien has no great investment in anyone? How did she become so distant? So cold? • A story in which 'Her Ladyship's Soap' gets a whole new meaning...
1. Chapter 1

_AN: The characters do not belong to me. Small drabble for a friend, ...or three. My first Corah attempt. Feedback is always appreciated! :)_

 _And PLEASE do **NOT** read if you don't like the femflash idea. I am a huge Cobert shipper myself, but we improve outside our comfort zone, right?_

 _Plus, no one needs homophobic comments. Thank you!_

* * *

 **August 25, 1905** *

*O'BRIEN: Ten years of my life that's what I've given her. Ten bloody years. (1912)

* * *

She hated it.

Sarah O'Brien **hated** it.

She knew it the very second Her Ladyship didn't ring between seven and eight.

Today was going to be one of **those** days and she hated it.

-x-

"Her Ladyship's breakfast is getting all cold!" Mrs. Patmore pouted while wrestling with her red curls which always seemed to find their way back into her eyes.

Sarah couldn't care less. Her blue eyes rolled and she didn't even bother to look up from her sewing.

"I'm sure Her Ladyship is plenty hot all by herself right now."

" **Will you shut your mouth!** " Suddenly, Sarah was on her feet, towering over the ginger boy who stared up at her with wide eyes. Her stare was ice-cold. All the other servants had stopped breathing and were eyeing the raised hand of one Miss Sarah O'Brien.

She had pushed over her mug when she had jumped to her feet. The dress she had been sewing was lying on the floor. And it was not until said mug finally rolled off the table and loudly shattered into a thousand pieces that Sarah came back to her senses.

The vein at the side of her neck was hammering as she finally managed to lower her hand. "If you ever dare to speak of Her Ladyship like that again," Sarah began and leaned forward so that only the boy could hear her. Her voice was a mere growl. It made his hair stand on end. "You won't live to see another day. Understood?!"

All the poor boy could do was nod.

"O'Brien!" Thomas' voice pulled her out of her rage right before he literally pulled her away from the boy. "What is the matter with you this morning?" With that, Thomas asked the question on everyone's tongue.

Sarah's light eyes met Thomas' and the air around them seemed to shift for a second.

 ** _Ding Dong._**

"It's just one of those days." She finally muttered and pulled her arm away before strutting out of the room with her head held high.

"Crikey…" The boy muttered and rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't know Lady Cora hired O'Brien as her watchdog."

With two quick steps Thomas was at the boy's side and gave him a good smack on the back of his head. "One more word and I'll have you sacked by noon."

"Alright, alright. Christ."

"And it's Lady **Grantham** , you stupid fool."

Yes, his name was Frederick. When he was sacked later on, it really came as no surprise.

* * *

 _Lord help me,_ Sarah thought when she finally reached the door to Lady Grantham's bedroom. This was her third year as Cora Crawley's Lady's Maid and a few months ago **it** had happened. And it all had started with her Ladyship's soap. Ever since that day she dreaded mornings like these.

 _I hate this. I hate it so much._ Her eyes rolled back as she closed them for a brief second, inhaling deeply as if inhaling the courage to finally push open the door.

 _Here we go._

 ** _Knock knock._**

"Good morning, Milady." She paused upon seeing Robert who was just about to leave. "Milord."

"Good morning, O'Brien." He nodded, politely as always and left the room, leaving the ladies to themselves.

 _She hated to run into him in this room, in the morning._

"Good morning, my dear O'Brien." Cora's velvety voice snaked its way across the room, lulling Sarah in like only the Countess could. The smile was audible. Sarah knew that smile well.

"Good- Good morning, Milady." She stuttered, realizing she was repeating herself.

 _She hated stuttering in this room, in_ _ **her**_ _presence._

Her own stupidity angered Sarah and she stole a sharp inhale. Oh, big mistake. She could still smell it. That lingering scent of sweet sweat and sex. It was everywhere, including her lungs. And Sarah—

 _Hated it. She hated the smell of sex in this room. And in every other, for that matter._

"O'Brien?" Cora's voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Hm? … Oh, pardon me, Milady." Sarah was quick to walk over to the side of the bed. "Here you go." And although she was practically leaning over Cora, she didn't dare a single look. She couldn't bear to look into those deep blue eyes that always made her forget the world. She couldn't. Not when she just— when they just— No. She was so close to Cora that she could smell His Lordship on that soft skin. The mere thought made her grit her teeth and she pulled away.

 _She hated his smell on her, always._

"Thank you, O'Brien. … Is everything alright?"

"Everything is just fine, Milady. Just fine."

"Are you—"

"I'll be right back with a fresh shirt and warm towels." O'Brien cut her off and was already on her way out, grabbing the dirty shirt. She knew Cora would want to take a bath this morning. She always did after they had— And _oh_.

 _She hated those long baths in the morning._

And not to mention her hair!

 _She hated her ruffled hair in the morning._

 _She hated the images of him caressing her in places only he and Sarah ever saw._

 _His hands on her body. Her thighs. His lips on hers, only to wander further down._

 _Just like his hands. …_

 _She hated the whole idea of him having her when he didn't even appreciate her._

Well, not enough anyway, in Sarah's opinion.

"Ugh!" A frustrated sigh slipped from her lips once she finally made it out of the room. Her cheeks were slightly hot and once again she closed her eyes to breathe 'fresh air'.

-x-

Yes.

She hated it.

Sarah O'Brien **hated** it.

She knew it the very second Her Ladyship hadn't rung between seven and eight.

Today was one of **those** days and she hated it.


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: The characters do not belong to me. Small drabble for a friend, ...or three. My first Corah attempt. Feedback is always appreciated! :)_

 _And PLEASE do **NOT** read if you don't like the femflash idea. I am a huge Cobert shipper myself, but we improve outside our comfort zone, right? _

_Plus, no one needs homophobic comments. Thank you!_

* * *

 **August 25, 1905**

* * *

 _Get ahold of yourself already!_ O'Brien silently scolded herself. Heaven forfend someone saw her this agitated. _No, no, we can't have that._

"Fancy a smoke?" She asked, already brushing past Thomas. It wasn't a question, really.

"Can't deny such a lovely invitation, can I?" He smirked.

She scoffed and quickly lit a cigarette, not even waiting for him.

He eyed her, obviously curious. "How are things with Lady G?"

"Same as usual." Her answer was dry and she took a long drag.

"Yes, Milady. No, Milady. Three bags full?"

"I'd like to give her three bags full. Preferably on a dark night."

"Did the bedbugs bite you or why are you so—"

But she cut him off before he could finish. "I'm **nothing**! Understood?"

Thomas raised his free hand in faux surrender. "Whatever you say."

"She'll be lucky if she gets another civil word out of me!" O'Brien muttered, flipping her cigarette away.

"We are all lucky if **we** get a civil word out of you."

She threw a warning glare his way but he continued. "And everyone knows she has you twisted around her little finger." He was way too amused by O'Brien's reaction whenever he had mentioned the Countess the past few weeks. Something must've happened.

"Don't push your luck." She warned and felt how her cheeks heated up. She had to get out of here. Away from him. "She pays me to do as I'm told, that's all."

And before Thomas could utter another word, she was gone.

 _Funny business that,_ he thought and watched her hurry inside. _Time for a closer inspection._

Oh, what he wouldn't give for an ally on all levels…

* * *

 _Breathe in,_ she told herself, one hand at the doorknob. _Breathe out._

 ** _Click._**

"Ah, there you are, O'Brien."

"Yes, Milady. I was looking for your favorite towel." She lied and dared a quick glance. Their stares collided through the reflection of the mirror and O'Brien found herself glued to the spot.

 **Oh** , how beautiful Her Ladyship was looking. Those oceanic hues were staring directly at Sarah and she could feel her knees weaken. It was a rare picture. Cora must have combed her hair… All curls were gone. Soft waves of dark, silky strands were framing porcelain skin, eliciting the urge inside of O'Brien to reach out and—

 _No!_

"O'Brien…?" Lady Grantham asked for the second time already, now feeling the need to turn her torso. With a concerned frown, she looked up.

"Yes, Milady?" _Frick!_

"Are you quite sure everything is fine?"

"Yes, Milady. … I'll just go and run Your Ladyship's bath."

Cora sighed but did not push it. "Thank you, O'Brien." She turned back around, reached for the brush and ran it through her hair once more, humming.

Once in the bathroom, O'Brien finally respired.

 _I need to stop this. I really need to stop this,_ she thought and with 'this' she clearly meant herself- and her mind. Especially from wandering. _Just… think of … ducklings!_ And it worked. … For a second. Because then O'Brien found her mind wandering off once more.

She actually liked the bathing hours.

She liked how the Countess put her hair up if it didn't need washing.

And she liked it how the wet hair cascaded down her Ladyship's back, if it needed washing.

She liked the tunes her mistress hummed, whenever O'Brien washed her back.

She liked the way those defined shoulder blades moved beneath soft skin. And _oh_ , how

she liked those arms. Her Ladyship had very nice biceps muscles. Small and feminine, still, but… _Probably because of liftin' up the three girls for decades_ , O'Brien thought. Too bad no one ever saw those arms. Or, maybe it was better that way.

And sometimes, when the Countess wasn't looking and O'Brien was pretending to fold some clothes in the bedroom, she'd glance over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of those glorious legs. Cora always did this thing where she lifted each leg up while washing them, so she could actually reach her calves. And all the while she'd point her feet. And whenever O'Brien had the chance, she dared a glance.

One time, Cora had caught her.

"I danced ballet for years when I was little." She had said out of the blue, causing for O'Brien to turn around and look at her.

"Milady..?"

"Isn't that why you are staring at my feet?"

Sarah's cheeks must've flushed at such a bold question. _Caught._ "I- I didn't mean to—"

"No, no. I am actually relieved that someone notices. Finally."

"I'm not sure I am following, Milady?" O'Brien had said while she had nervously clawed the shirt in her hands until her knuckles turned white.

"Oh, you see, dancers are very… particular about certain things. One of them being the feet. Have you ever noticed that, when I walk, my toes always point a little outward?"

"I actually have, Milady." O'Brien admitted, somewhat surprised.

"Ah, see. That's because of the ballet, too. I can't help it." Her melodic chuckle had made Sarah smile a little. "O'Brien…"

"O'Brien…!"

-x-

"O'Brien?!" Cora asked again and got up from her chair. "What is taking so long today? Is the bath—" Her eyes widened as she finally reached the door. " **O'Brien**! Mind out! You will flood the bathroom!"

Lady Grantham's sudden appearance pulled O'Brien out of her thoughts once again. But it was too late. The very second she reached for the tap, the water spilled.

 ** _Splish-Splash._**

"I-I'm so very sorry, Milady! I will clean it up in a jiffy!" O'Brien said frantically and was almost on her way out when…

"No! Leave it be."

She stopped and eyed the Countess. "Are you sure, Milady?"

"Yes. You can do that later. Else you have twice the work."

"As you wish, Milady." O'Brien murmured and couldn't bear the eye-contact any longer. She averted her gaze to her shoes, noticing Her Ladyship's already naked feet.

 ** _Tap, tap, tap._**

With a few steps Cora walked over to the tub, waiting for O'Brien to follow and take the robe from her naked shoulders. Once she felt those soft fingertips hardly grazing her skin, Cora sighed. "But I really wish you would tell me what is going on, my dear O'Brien."

Sarah knew that tone. Her fingers curled into the silken material and this time she actually fought the wish to lower her gaze, silently cursing Her Ladyship's soap. It all had started with that _bloody soap_! "Nothin', Milady. It's really nothin'."


	3. Chapter 3

_AN: This Fanfic was supposed to be a small drabble but it turned out to be a bit more! This is the last chapter. Please let me know what you think. Thank you so much for reading/reviewing!_

* * *

 **August 25, 1905**

* * *

The very second Cora entered the bathtub, she flooded the floor once more but paid little attention. Slowly and very gracefully she lowered her lithe body into the warm water.

O'Brien turned away quick enough and walked over to a nearby chair, draping her mistress' robe over the wood as if it were a rose tendril.

Cora had observed her maid all morning and she knew something was off. Her blue eyes were now glued to O'Brien's back and she silently wondered what on earth her maid was trying to do with that robe of hers – apart from the obvious, of course: Buying herself some time.

 _But why?_ Cora wondered. _I must have missed something. She barely can look me in the eye._

"O'Brien?"

Sarah froze. "Yes, Milady?" She lifted her head but did not turn to look at her mistress.

Cora frowned and slowly, anger began to pool in the pit of her stomach. But _no_! She would not ask again! "I forgot the scented oil on my vanity. Can you get it for me, please?"

"Of course, Milady." O'Brien nodded before almost fleeing the room, leaving a frustrated countess behind. Cora was way too naïve to understand what was going on and O'Brien? Well, O'Brien was thanking the stars for it.

-x-

 _Where's a handsome distraction when you need one_? O'Brien silently mused as she made her way over to the vanity.

It was an odd thought, especially for her.

Sarah was not unexperienced – Lord knew she wasn't, but she never had felt **_it_** when being with a man. She had felt a certain amount of attraction but it had never knocked her off her feet. She never knew exactly how **_it_** was supposed to feel but she somehow knew she hadn't felt it yet.

Until last month.

One month ago Sarah O'Brien had felt **_it_** and as fate would have it, it had been on no other day than Her Ladyship's birthday: July 18th.

* * *

 **July 18, 1905**

* * *

"I really ought to hurry!" Cora exclaimed and almost jumped out of bed. "I didn't mean to sleep in!"

"Isn't this supposed to be your day, Milady?" O'Brien asked and observed her mistress with hawk-like eyes, breakfast tray still in hand.

"I'd like to think of it as my day, O'Brien, but I'm sure it wouldn't absolve me from certain rituals and rules." Cora sighed as she hurried over to her vanity.

O'Brien put the tray down. "Like being on time for a certain someone's arrival? To avoid scolding glances?" She glanced at Cora's reflection in the mirror and as their eyes met, both women were unable to suppress an amused smile.

"We both know how much my mother-in-law would enjoy telling my husband 'I told you so.' Again."

"She sure likes that sentence." O'Brien agreed amusedly as she walked over to help her mistress with putting up her hair for a bath.

Cora fell silent for a while and merely observed O'Brien through the mirror. ... "You're very clever." She stated as she finally spoke again, which earned her a questioning frown from her maid. "You always manage to put the words in my mouth you're not allowed to say."

O'Brien met Cora's gaze. Their blue eyes collided in a silent stare. "I'd hate to overstep and lose my job, Milady." She finally said. "But I am guilty as charged. I do have my opinions and I like to share 'em. Especially when I know we have the same ones."

This made Cora raise her brows. "You've been with us for almost three years now and if you keep this up…"

Those words made Sarah freeze and she even held her breath without realizing it. Had she gone too far?

"…I am sure I will never allow you to leave." Cora finished and she found it amused her greatly to see the relief washing over O'Brien's features. It was not an everyday occurrence after all, to see such stir on O'Brien's face. She liked that side of her maid and it felt good to have an ally.

"I am glad to hear it, Milady!" The answer was honest and Sarah did not only feel sudden relief but also, dare she say, joy! Her Ladyship was not only satisfied with her work but she also valued her opinion. This was not the general case, which Sarah knew all too well, thanks to her previous employer.

"I will not scold you for voicing your opinions, O'Brien." Cora glanced up once more. "Not behind closed doors anyway."

This had been Cora Crawley's way of telling her maid she was allowed to talk more freely when they were alone and yet there were invisible lines to keep. Little did the countess know that in the years to come, O'Brien would manage to dance on those lines without Cora even realizing it. And oh, how those lines would blur…

Skilled maid hands lowered while an observant gaze lifted and blue eyes watched how Lady Grantham ran her fingertips along her cheekbones, dabbing invisible wrinkles. Sarah knew Cora well by now.

"If that is the case," she began, pulling Cora's focus, "I'd like to state my opinion about how fresh and young you still look, Milady. Not like 37 at all. But if you do not hurry now, the certain someone will manage to make you look like a drained poodle before tonight's festivities."

At that statement, Cora's jaw fell slack and she wasn't sure what to do first: Smile, chuckle or scold. "O'Brien!" She obviously chose the latter but then chuckled, shaking her head. "You are right. I better get going. Let's make this a quick bath!" She said and rose to her feet.

"As you wish, Milady."

"Oh and O'Brien?" Cora stopped on the threshold and glanced over her shoulder with a smile.

"Yes, Milady?" O'Brien asked, raising her brows. She, too, stopped walking.

"Thank you."

Now it was O'Brien's turn to share a warm smile. "Happy Birthday, Milday."

* * *

 **August 25, 1905**

* * *

"O'Brien! For the love of god, what is it with you today!" The frustration in Cora's voice was more than audible and it was all it took to pull Sarah out of her memory. **Again**.

"Pardon me, M'lady…" She quickly murmured, knowing Cora wasn't usually one to voice her thoughts louder than moderate volume.

"Since you are so reluctant to tell me what is going on," the Countess began as O'Brien came back into the bathroom, handing her the oil she had requested minutes ago, "I will give you until tomorrow."

Even more color drained from already pale cheeks. "And then what, Milady?"

"And then you will either be the old O'Brien or you will tell me what is going on."

Sarah stared at her mistress in disbelief. Cora's beautiful face was adorned with an angry frown. Her sparkling blue eyes suddenly seemed to harbor a different shimmer. She had never seen this expression before but, in the years yet to come, she'd learn that it always meant her mistress was jolly well fed up.

"Do you understand?" Cora asked, lowering her chin to underline her questioning stare.

O'Brien merely nodded. What was she supposed to say anyway? "Is that all, Milady?"

"Yes. You are dismissed for today. Send Martindle up. She can do the rest."

"Yes, Milady." O'Brien nodded once more and was just about to turn when…

"Hand me the soap before you leave, please."

 _The soap._

"Yes, Milady." O'Brien swallowed before reaching out and the very second her fingertips grazed the creamy surface, she couldn't keep her memories at bay any longer.

* * *

 **July 18, 1905**

* * *

"Would that be all, Milady?" O'Brien asked, looking at her mistress who was busy soaping herself rather hectically. _Oh_ , such an amusing sight.

"Yes, yes. Now go, fetch my birthday dress! I'll be squeaky clean before you're back." Cora's lips curled into a bright grin as she looked up at O'Brien.

"Oh, I have no doubt!" The maid replied and pressed her lips into a thin line but the amused grin shimmered through nonetheless. "I will be right back then."

She turned on her heel, left the bathroom and headed towards the bedroom door when she suddenly heard a thump before sweet, barely audible curses reached her ear. She hurried back immediately.

"Are you alright, Milady?" She asked and quickly reentered the bathroom, finding a dripping Cora Crawley standing with one feet already on the ground while the other was still in the bathtub.

"Yes, yes. I dropped the soap. But it's fine." Cora waved a hand dismissively and stepped out of the bathtub completely. "I can get it."

O'Brien looked around and frowned upon not seeing the object in question. "Are you sure, Milady? I don't—"

But then **_it_** happened.

Cora was about to shoo her maid away when she tried to take yet another step but failed miserably. In all her hectic she had knocked over the small oil bottle earlier.

She stepped right into the small puddle.

Her foot slipped. She gasped as she lost her balance.

 _Oh no!_

Like a lightning, O'Brien rushed towards her mistress, instinctively reaching out.

It all went down in less than a second: With one foot already in the air, Cora's heart skipped a beat as she felt her second foot slip as well. Her hands desperately tried to grasp something, but all they found was thin air.

But then, suddenly, someone was at her side.

Without thinking twice, O'Brien wrapped her arms around Lady Grantham's exposed and wet middle to keep her from falling. She could feel how her Ladyship's hands quickly found her shoulders— they grasped for life. Their hammering hearts briefly met as chests collided.

One slippery misstep later, Cora found herself securely wrapped into her maid's arms. Her hands were still grasping O'Brien's collar, so that her lower arms rested against the woman's front.

O'Brien suddenly realized that their cheeks were pressed against each other and she found a shiver running down her spine as her Ladyship's panting breath tickled her ear. Her body reacted in yet undiscovered ways.

 _Oh God._

"Oh God." Cora's whisper was barely audible as she started to disengage from O'Brien.

Sarah could feel that soft skin slipping from hers and yet she was still holding Cora, bare hands pressed upon bare flesh. She could feel her Ladyship's rips expand beneath her fingertips. Their mouths were so close at one point that O'Brien held her own breath.

When their eyes finally met, O'Brien could swear the world stopped spinning for a second. Everything seemed to stop, including her hammering heart and she found herself staring into Lady Grantham's crystal blue eyes. Her stomach flipped and the atmosphere around them seemed to shift. A sudden, overwhelming urge to lean in and allow her lips to melt with Cora's overcame, surprised and also startled her. She suddenly felt **_it_**.

She wanted to touch her.

 _Here. Now. … Everywhere._

 _What the…_

"Are you alright, Milady?!" She quickly asked to distract herself, stepping back a bit. Her hands lost contact with her mistress' back and instead gently wrapped around the woman's upper arms, steadying her - just in case.

"I- I am," Cora nodded and slowly brought a hand to her chest as if to breathe into it. "Just a little shaken."

O'Brien could feel her cheeks burn. She felt rather shaken herself and the urge to get away from her Ladyship was unbearable. And _Lord_ , the woman really needed to put on some clothes.

 _I need to leave. Now._

"Tell you what…" O'Brien began and reached for the countess' hand while holding on to her arm with the other, slowly guiding her away from the bathtub, over to the chair with the towels. "You are squeaky clean already. Towel down, put on your favorite lotion and once you're done, ring for me. I hope I can change in time. If not, I will send someone to do your hair."

 _I hope I_ _ **can't**_ _manage in time. Let me go already._

Cora accepted the towel and wrapped herself into it, still in slight shock. It was not until then that her gaze fell to O'Brien's uniform. Wet soap stains everywhere. "Oh, of course. I'm so sorry, O'Brien."

It was almost impossible to hold her Ladyship's gaze.

 _Those eyes. Those lips._ "It's nothin', really. I will hurry. Unless you are not well?"

"No, no. I am fine, really. Go!"

 _Oh, thank heavens._

O'Brien merely nodded and turned on her heel.

"And thank you!" Cora said and the sincerity weighed heavily in the air.

It made O'Brien swallow hard. She knew she had to at least glance at her Ladyship and so she did. Again, she nodded but after that she left the room as fast as she could, leaving a blissfully unaware birthday girl behind.

* * *

 **August 25, 1905**

* * *

"Thank you." Cora said as she took the soap and didn't even bother to look at O'Brien. She really was angry with her maid. Was she that terrible of a person that O'Brien wouldn't tell her what's wrong? Had they not bonded at least somewhat over the past three years? _Ugh._

"That will be all for today."

"Yes, Milady." Sarah said quickly and turned.

"O'Brien." Cora voice suddenly filled the room once more but it no longer sounded angry.

Sarah frowned. "Yes?"

"Please tell me you are not seriously ill?"

 _…_ _. How?!_ Sarah thought. _How_ could a person be this kind and caring?! She knew her Ladyship had every right to be mad and yet she was looking for the fault in herself, **again**. She always seemed to do that. Even with his Lordship.

"Sarah O'Brien!" Cora's voice was now filled with thick worry.

Sarah had not realized she'd been silently staring. It did not happen every day that her Ladyship would call her by her full name. "No, Milady. I am not sick. I am just not myself today, is all." But O'Brien's eyes were silently screaming a different story.

 _I am not myself today. I wasn't myself yesterday. Or the day before. I am not myself anymore ever since the day I held you in my arms, touched your skin and smelled you on my own skin. I am not myself anymore ever since our hearts collided and I wished for our lips to do the same. You made me overstep a line I never would have dared to cross. A line I never thought I'd cross. You made me do it. And you don't even know! Undo it! Oh, please._

"Very well." Cora sighed, obviously relieved. "I will see you tomorrow then."

 _Undo it._

-x-

"You're down early." Thomas observed, wearing such a smug smirk that O'Brien felt the sudden need to wipe it off his face…. With the back of her hand. Or a chair. "Did she send you down to knit some fancy party hats for Lady Sybil's 10th birthday next week?"

"Choke on your tongue." She muttered and wanted to walk past him but he was faster. His hand jolted forward, taking her upper arm prisoner.

"What is it with you today, O'Brien?" He whispered into her ear while pulling her closer than she wanted to be. Well, not to him anyway.

Sarah gritted her teeth. Her fingers balled into a fist. "Her Ladyship's soap." She whispered aloud, with a locked jaw, but still. Thomas had heard it.

"What?" He frowned. Obviously, he did not understand.

"Nothin'!" She quickly corrected and pulled her arm away. Why had she opened her mouth in the first place?!

"O'Brien!" Thomas called after her but she was already around the corner.

"Go to hell."

"… What was that all about?" Mrs. Patmore peeked around the corner.

"She's just extra sour today." Thomas shrugged.

"Ah." Beryl murmured. "With that hairdo I'd be extra sour every day."

Thomas chuckled silently, crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. His chin lifted in thought. _Her Ladyship's soap,_ he inwardly repeated until it was burned into his brain. After all, it might come in handy at some point …

 _Her Ladyship's soap._

-x-

She took a deep, long drag of her cigarette and shook her head as if to get rid of that mental picture.

 _Lady Grantham and her worried look. Those eyes…_

"Bloody soap!" Sarah cursed under her breath, shaking her head once more.

She had gone too far. This had gone for. **_It_** had gone too far, whatever **_it_** was. But Sarah knew she had to bury **_it_**. _Make it go away. Hide it. Forever._ What she was feeling and what she was thinking was wrong. She was not allowed to think those things. She was not allowed to stare or blush because of her Ladyship's presence. This had never been her. And this could never be her!

 _And it never will be._ O'Brien silently swore to herself and when she finally stepped onto her cigarette to kill the embers, it felt like stepping onto her very own embers, killing a certain part inside of her, killing those dangerous thoughts. They needed to die. Tonight.

And so, on August 25th, Sarah O'Brien buried something deep inside her. Something that would form an underlying bitterness in the years to come. Later on, people would describe her as 'never particularly happy' or 'a prickly woman with a sharp tongue'. Later on, people would ask why she was so bitter. Yet, no one would ever receive an answer. They all would silently wonder why Miss Sarah O'Brien seemed determined to keep people out.

Only one man knew the answer, without even _knowing_ it.

Little did Sarah O'Brien know that her Ladyship's soap would come back to haunt her almost 15 years later.

 _Her Ladyship's soap._


End file.
